


Neurological Storms

by breatheforeverypart



Series: Natasha's Life [4]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers, The Black Widow 2020, the winter soldier - Fandom
Genre: C-PTSD, Cult-like Programming, Eating Disorders, F/F, F/M, M/M, Movie Night, Ng tube, PNES, Programming, Psychogenic Non Epileptic seizures, The Red Room, Trauma, treatment for eating disorders, triggers like whoa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23316322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breatheforeverypart/pseuds/breatheforeverypart
Summary: The Avengers have an impromptu movie night.  Natasha and Bucky are triggered by a part of a animated film and deal with the aftermath separately, and as a team.
Relationships: Avengers as family - Relationship, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Team as Family - Relationship
Series: Natasha's Life [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758643
Comments: 3
Kudos: 96





	Neurological Storms

**Author's Note:**

> Hey. If you have an issues with cult-like programming and trauma related to grooming patterns of abuse, or severe dissociative issues, read carefully.

“Movie night?” Clint yawned shuffling into the common room. 

Tony nodded, his mouth full of popcorn. 

“Hey Mr. Barton!” Peter waved from his spot on the massive sofa. “Mr. Stark says I need a pop culture education like Mr. Rogers.” 

Rolling his eyes Tony pointed at the screen. “Underoos needed a babysitter, his Aunt May is stuck working a double at the hospital. After his escapades in Philly, he’s been grounded to the Tower.” 

The teenager blushed and mumbled. “I-I asked Karen not to tell you. It was no big deal, honestly it was a minor-.” 

He jabbed a finger at Peter, doing a perfect imitation of a father figure. “There is no such thing as a ‘minor’ stab wound. This is the last time we’re discussing it.” 

Clint cocked his head, studying the teenager. “I mean, if we’re talking practically…” 

“Do not encourage him Barton.” Tony interrupted. 

Bruce patted the mostly empty couch. “Are you going to join us? Steve and Bucky will be down soon.” Banner pointed a chop stick at his take-out container. “Pepper ordered a super-soldier quantity.” 

The archer’s stomach grumbled loudly. “Deal. I’ll ask Nat.” 

***

Flexing her bruised arm Natasha stretched. It felt good to finally lose the IV. 

“Knock, knock.” Clint poked his head in the bedroom. “Up for a walk?” 

For the first time in days Natasha felt her brain waking. She had thoughts beyond wanting to die. Most of them were still along that theme, but only Jessica was aware. Thank goodness for secure messaging apps. 

“Where?” She crossed her legs and looked at him intently. 

“Spider boy is here. Apparently, it’s movie night. We could be social, it’s been a while…” 

Absently Natasha scratched her nose, heat flushed her face. “Shit.” 

“Hey. No one’s gonna judge.” He grabbed the small backpack that held her liquid feedings and began packing the pre-determined bag. 

“We can’t hide forever babe.” 

Pouting Natasha unfolded her legs. Her oldest friend was right. “Who ‘s here?” 

Clint offered a half-smile. “Tony, Pepper, Peter, Steve and Bucky, Wanda and Sam, plus enough Thai take-out to feed a small army. Or Thor.” 

Her stomach turned at the mention of a meal. Clint squeezed her hand. “But you’re all set.” He wiggled the bag and frowned as the liquid sloshed around making a disgusting sound. 

“Okay.” She sighed and accepted Clint’s hand. “What are we watching?” 

“No idea.” He handed her the backpack and kept an arm around her shoulders as they made their way down the hall. 

***

“How did you learn how to use these before me?” 

Bucky shrugged and shoveled some more noodles into his mouth. 

Steve groaned. He had somehow managed to lose a chopstick and dribble a variety of veggies down his shirt. 

“Okay Cap?” Natasha smiled, slowly walking to the sofa. 

Wanda patted the open spot to her left, offering the end seat with plenty of room for Clint too. 

“Could use a napkin.” Steve mumbled, picking food off of his shirt. 

Tony snorted “Or a bib.” 

Bucky chuckled and pressed a kiss to Natasha’s head on his way back to Steve with a fistful of paper towels. 

“Everybody ready?” Tony asked, adjusting the speakers from his tablet. 

Wanda caught a bag of cinnamon candy lobbed at her from Banner and tucked her legs under the blanket she had covered Natasha with. 

The black of the screen gave way to the title of the film. Peter brought his hands together in anticipation. “It’s so old! How did they do this in 1837?” 

“1937, kid.” Steve automatically corrected. “We’re not that old.” 

Bucky tensed beside him, his chest suddenly heaving. 

Wanda gasped as Natasha slid off of the sofa. Her hands were clamped tightly over her ears, knees drawn to her chest. The whole of her shaking, drawing shallow breaths. 

Clint’s hands hovered, hesitate to touch her. 

The animated queen on the large screen began to speak and Natasha froze. Clint slid back on his knees, increasing the space between them. He motioned for Wanda to do the same. 

“Clint.” The young witch’s hands had begun to glow. “Clint, it’s- “

Natasha’s hands slipped away from her head. She began speaking, Russian by the look of her lips. Even with his hearing aids, Clint couldn’t be sure. 

The sound of a body slamming into the floor startled every Avenger except for Natasha, who was firmly planted in a past life. 

Peter yelped “Oh God, JARVIS?” 

Tony gripped his arm and pulled the teenager towards the kitchen. 

Shoving the couch back a few feet, Steve knelt over his partner’s convulsing body. Sam held a phone, timing the seizure. 

The animated mirror answered the fictional Evil Queen on the screen and Steve’s attention snapped to Tony. “Turn it off!” He growled, too focused on Bucky to explain what he’d just realized. 

Clint looked from Bucky to Natasha and cursed, understanding the sudden breakdowns. The Red Room had used the 30’s version of Snow White as part of the programming curriculum. Nat had discovered this fact during a family vacation with his family a couple summer ago. He hadn’t known Barnes had experience with the same trigger. 

Peter shakily addressed the AI. “JARVIS, shut down all ports to the media center in the common room.” 

“It’s slowing down.” Sam nodded to Steve who lifted Bucky’s prosthetic arm and leg up and over into a side-lying recovery position. 

Thick saliva dribbled out of his mouth and he exhaled forcefully, eyes still closed. 

“Bucky, it’s okay. It’s over.” 

Steve pushed Bucky’s hair off of his forehead, sweat still beading at his hairline. He moaned and started to shiver. “Can we get a blanket?” 

Sam frowned “He’s still warm, I don’t want him to overheat.” 

“A light one?” Steve watched his partner. “The cold, he doesn’t do well with cold.” 

His friend nodded and accepted a light throw from Bruce. 

“Shit.” 

“Clint?” 

Glancing at Sam and Bruce, who were kneeling protectively over Bucky, he turned his attention to Barton. 

The archer was trying in vain to catch Natasha’s attention. Her eyes darted around the room, but Steve had a feeling that whatever she was responding to wasn’t something or someone the rest of them were aware of. 

“I should’ve asked. The movie.” Clint finally lifted his head. 

Steve rubbed his neck. “I know, Bucky too.” 

“He okay?” The archer asked, his voice full of concern even though he had turned back to Natasha. 

She drew a shaky breath and shifted her weight, hands moving to her face. “Nyet, nyet.” Frantically she reached for her face. 

Clint reacted a split second before her right hand moved like lightening. He knew her better than anyone. 

“Steve.” Clint had her forearms crossed and pressed into her bony hips. “I need Bucky.” 

Captain America sputtered. “You do?” 

“Unless you understand Russian. She can’t sign like this, and she’s way beyond my conversational capabilities.” 

Wanda snaked an arm around Bucky’s waist as he stumbled over to their group. He was barely able to move without support, but he was singularly focused on Natasha. 

“Buck, are you sure?” 

He nodded shakily. 

“Natalia?” Clint glanced at the ex-assassin, who let Steve ease his descent to the floor. “Barton, you can let go.” 

After a moment, the archer complied, keeping his hands ready intervention. 

She crinkled her nose, a bit a dried blood peeking out from the nostril that housed the NG tube. 

“Soldat?” Confusion laced her voice. 

He started to nod, but then stopped. “Not anymore. We are in New York.” 

“America.” The words felt strange in her mouth. Barton. He watched her, he had tried to kill her. Threat. Blood pounded in her ears. 

“Look at me.” Barnes placed a hand above her heart. “This is real. I promise.” 

Automatically her head lifted. Soldat’s face looked different. Softer somehow, he resembled the teacher, the mentor, she had known back in eastern Europe. 

“Real.” She repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. 

The Common Room sharpened in her vision. Her senses jolted awake and she pushed herself against the sofa. Bodies, everyone felt too close, why? They weren’t a threat, Soldat said so. He has a name, Bucky. Barton sat in front of her, searching her face for recognition. 

“Clint.” She croaked, one hand grabbing each of theirs. They tethered her to reality, this life, in this Tower. 

The archer scooped Natasha off the floor and settled them both in a nest of blankets on the couch. Steve led Bucky to the open space by the duo’s feet, tucking an afghan over their interlocked limbs. In the background Banner argued jovially with Tony and his protégé over what episode of a favorite sitcom they should stream. 

Natasha tried to absorb all emotions associated with this moment. Everything right now was home. Clint’s body wrapped around hers, his fingers playing with her hair. Bucky’s foot pressed against her knee. The Avengers conversing about mundane topics. It was okay to feel safe and like this, her life. 

Smiling to herself, Natasha let herself drift into the most restful sleep she’d had in recent memory amongst the cacophony of her chosen family.


End file.
